Yes
by MLaw
Summary: Alexander Waverly has a rare moment of contemplation. Originally posted on section7mfu, live journal for the Song Story Challenge. The prompt was the You-tube performance of the song "Be Gentle With Me," by The Boy Least Likely To.


He sat alone, listening to the rare silence in his conference room. Alexander Waverly sighed at such an unusual respite.

There were no blinking lights on his console, no pending disasters, threats to the world, no communications... nothing.

He rose from his chair, taking his Briar pipe in hand and striking a match, he touched it to the bowl. Puffing away on the mouthpiece until the tobacco began to burn; it masked the odor of sulpher from the match.

Tonight he opted to forego his private blend, Isle of Dogs no. 22... he was trying another brand for a change of pace, one given to him as a gift by his Russian agent. It was a Turkish blend, a spicey tobacco known for a nutty, somewhat "sweet and sour" flavor.

He chuckled to himself; no doubt there was an ulterior motive to Kuryakin's generosity, as this brand would not make him sneeze...

Waverly puffed on the mouth piece, blowing smoke rings into the air and for once just feeling leisurely. The flavor was rather enjoyable, or was it the peace that accompanied it?

Looking out his window into the night, staring beyond the glow of the city, he gazed at the sky. Suddenly there was a shooting star and he watched as it blazed across the darkness; sparkling for just a brief moment before it fizzled and died.

That suddenly made him feel just a little old and tired, like the star he would eventually fade and die too...

He suddenly yeared for a little gentleness in his life, one that was not filled with the intricacies in intrigue of the shadowed covert world. There was no black or white there, only varying shades grey and truths hidden in mist.

"Was there anything that was truly real in this business he'd gotten himself into so long ago?" Alexander sighed, as it was a question he rarely asked himself. Still, he knew what the Command meant amongst all the smoke and mirrors.

He continued puffing away on his pipe, driving those thoughts from his mind until his thoughts slowly drifted to his beloved Estelle, his wonderful forgiving wife. How he managed to have a family and children with her, he'd never know. She was a saint for putting up with him, but was his rock, a woman filled with passion...which the old gal used to kept him in line. He chuckled at that thought.

She tolerated so much, yet possessed a gentleness of spirit and a heart of gold. Estelle was perhaps the strongest person he'd ever known.

The Continental Chief looked at his watch, noting the time. It was only two in the morning, not a late night for him. Keeping such hours; he could see why his people thought he never slept.

Perhaps he'd go home for once and surprise his wife. She would be pleased to see him, as he would be to see her. There was always that delight between them, like two people who'd been separated for a terribly long time, though sometimes it truly felt like that.

Alexander Waverly found he was yearning to see her...feel her gentleness and love. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and yet he knew he suddenly needed his best girl. Yes...'Just be gentle, be gentle, be gentle, and I'll be gentle, be gentle, be gentle, be gentle with you,' he thought of her.

A quote from her favorite poem by Joyce came to mind, one she'd come to admire when they were but young lovers…it seemed like only yesterday.

_"I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes."_

.

He picked up his microphone, flicking a switch on the console.

"Yes Mr. Waverly sir?"

"My towncar please. I'll be going home."

"Right away sir."


End file.
